Coming Up Sunday, August 17

Tomorrow we will enjoy Casual Worship, meaning that the dress code is very relaxed. Come dressed for a picnic -- which I hope you'll return for Sunday night.

As for the sermon on Sunday, we'll finally arrive at the Sunday many of you have been waiting for -- perhaps with fear and trembling -- the story of David and Bathsheba. It is also the story of Bathsheba's poor husband Uriah, whose existence brings out the worst in King David.

Fundamentally, the story is about sex. I could lie and say that it's about the corruption of power -- certainly that is an important subtheme -- but really it's really about sex. David, who is clearly at the wrong place at the wrong time -- the text makes it clear that he should be leading the army in the spring campaign -- compounds this problem by allowing his sexual desires to run unchecked. He sees a beautiful woman, finds out that she's married, and demands she be brought to his bedroom. A short while later, he hears the words every man dreads to hear after such a sexual encounter: "I'm pregnant."

Since there was no ancient equivalent of Maury Povich running around administering paternity tests, David relies on the world's oldest solution to this problem -- he sends for the woman's husband and insists that he take some R & R from the front lines by spending a relaxing weekend at home...with his wife...um, washing his feet. And eight and a half months from now, when a child is born, everyone would winkingly say, "That Uriah sure made the most of his time at home, didn't he?" And no one would be the wiser.

[Really, that's what the text says -- David tells Uriah to go home and "wash his feet." The commentaries all agree that "wash his feet" is just a euphemism. Even if it isn't, the innuendo is quite clear. Of course, this innuendo raises a rather disturbing context which could be read into all the other foot-washing references in the Bible.]

The problem, shockingly, is that the husband refuses to play along. He just won't go home. He makes every effort to avoid seeing his wife, realizing that his first duty during wartime is to army and country. So he sleeps just outside David's palace. David tries again, indulging him with food and alcohol, hoping to weaken his resolve. But the husband won't do it.

So the king writes a note to the general, directing that the husband be forced to lead a highly dangerous exposed assault on the enemy, and abandoned to die at the hands of the enemy. Then, in a monstrous touch, he gives the sealed order to the husband to personally carry to the general. The general obeys, and in short order, the husband is dead on the field. After a period of mourning, the widow becomes the king's wife.

All's well that ends well, I guess. Except that God is displeased with David. And he sends the prophet Nathan to reprimand David and to explain the punishment for David's actions. David shouldn't have slept with another man's wife. By implication, there were plenty of other women that David could have brought into his bedroom; as the king, he had his pick of all the single women of the land, evidently as many as he wanted. To take another man's wife and then to order the husband's death is entirely unacceptable.

David will be punished -- though unlike Saul, he does not receive a death sentence. Instead, he is told that other men will sleep with his wives (on the ancient "eye for an eye, woman for a woman" principle) with his knowledge, that the remainder of his rule will be rocked by violent internal power struggles with his children, and that the love child Bathsheba is carrying will die after birth. Of course, eventually David and Bathsheba will have another child, Solomon, who will inherit the kingdom which certainly makes the divine judgment rather more ambiguous.

Whenever I've mentioned to some of you that I would be preaching on sex this Sunday, I've noticed a lot of discomfort -- more discomfort than I've noticed with other parts of this sermon series. I should say that I find this rather amusing; we've been talking about violence -- sometimes rather explicitly -- off and on for weeks and nobody's raised an eyebrow. But even the hint of sex and people get a funny look on their faces.

I realize that this is one of those things that we do not talk much about in polite company, like politics and religion. And truly, some preachers avoid any mention of sex (and politics and religion) in church, not wanting to offend anyone. But this is short-sighted. Sex is one of the core impulses of human existence, and it is a peculiarly multi-faceted impulse. As much as we joke about sex in black and white terms (and most of our sexual innuendos are rather unsophisticated), its impact on each of us and on the culture at large is complex. But we don't have such a view about it because we don't think about sex very much (even though we think about sex often).

I won't go into my "sex doesn't get the attention it deserves" rant here, but isn't it curious how sex is portrayed in the wider culture. Sometimes, it is the goal of a romantic relationship -- everything is foreplay to sex. More often, it is just a step to check off the list: third date -- sex. Is it any wonder that our teenagers, surrounded by teen comedies driven by the "must lose virginity before graduation" plot-line, soap operas and romance novels, and the perpetual gossipmill that is school (offset only by the obligatory, and tame, one sexual ed class and one uncomfortable parental "birds and bees" talk), are having sex earlier and earlier, and more and more? What reason do we give them not to? We owe our children better. We owe our wider community better. We owe ourselves better.

So we will talk about sex in church. Just like we will talk about money in church, and politics, and power, and sin, and injustice, and bigotry, and hypocrisy, and tragedy, and death, and all the other uncomfortable subjects. Because they affect us all. Because the scriptures have much to say on these topics. Because God cares about them. Because God cares about us.